


MorbuVir-04

by NickSilverpen



Category: Bionicle - All Media Types
Genre: COVID-19, addressing plot holes, contemporary piece
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-07
Updated: 2021-01-07
Packaged: 2021-03-17 19:06:48
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,980
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28604940
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NickSilverpen/pseuds/NickSilverpen
Summary: What was going on in Metru Nui during the events of the 2nd film? Parts of "Bionicle: Legends of Metru Nui" did not add up. Thinking about contemporary issues with Covid-19, I suddenly thought of a way to address what I thought was a plot hole in the film.
Relationships: None
Kudos: 2





	MorbuVir-04

Brander picked through the remaining pieces of his forge. He realistically knew he wouldn’t find much, but a part of him hoped for anything salvageable within the wreck. He was going to have to start over— but to have some pile of tools, scraps, anything really would help him better set up anew.

Around him, other Ta-Matoran dug through other parts of the building, looking for anything salvageable underneath the tons of protodermic bricks and rubble. Kapura picked tediously, while Keahi and a few others dug through other points of the collapsed building.

“Time to move on,” said the Matoran heading the scavenging party. Picking themselves up off the rubble, they climbed to the ground to regroup. A salvage cart stood nearby, a small pile of things they had found resting within it. The remnants of his previous Ta-Metru forge had completely collapsed in on itself. Brander thought they would have come up with more, but the damage to the old forge was considerable.

“This is not bad,” said Keahi to Brander as they walked. The director of the scavengers lead back to their work center, hoping to get back before the changing of the shift.

“I would still like more,” Brander replied. “It is going to be hard to know what I still need to set up anew.”

“Toa Lhikan will defeat the Morbuzahk soon,” assured Keahi. “and you will be back in a forge before you know it, and it will be like this never happened.”

“Let’s hustle!” said the head Matoran. The two broke off their conversation there and marched forward with him, back to the heart of Ta-Metru.

However the sounds of scavenging still rang from the pile. Junk slipped and fell, bricks shifted. The director looked around in annoyance. “I thought I said let’s—“ he began to bark. His voice died in his throat though. His eyes lit up in horror at what he saw.

The rest of the Matoran turned to see what was paralyzing the head scavenger, only to wish they hadn’t. The pile of rubble was shifting, giving way as something from below pushed through. The pile fell wayside as something slithered out of it. Small bits of metal and brick caught onto it and dropped to the ground as one, two, up to half a dozen dark green and brown tentacles emerged from the ground.

“Morbuzahk!” called Keahi. “Run!”

Even though they had no audio receptors, the vines seemed to snap at the sound of their name. They shot in the direction of the Matoran, reaching for the little legs of the foragers as they tried to run away.

Blasts of energy cut the vines short. Vahki Nuurahk swept down from the skies, launching a steady stream of energy bolts from their staffs and Kanoka blasts. The vines recoiled upon being struck with the energy, and writhed as multiple Kanoka powers rippled through its form. The squad of Vahki enforcers had been waiting on the outskirts of the ruins to overwatch the Matoran as they worked, and waited silently for something to happen. Now this was their chance to hop into action.

The vines writhed in the air before slamming themselves down on the pavement. The mini bioquakes the tremors produced shook the group of Matoran, throwing them on their backs. Picking themselves up, they continued to run.

The ground began to crack around them. The Ta-Matoran yelled in horror as they saw more vines burst out of the ground. Readying their Kanoka launchers, Brander and the others fired discs of their own. However, they misfired, and the vines, sensing their prey, dodged the discs and made a straight shot for the scavengers.

Brander found himself pinned, the vine having wrapped itself around him like a Doom Viper. Like his brothers around him, he struggled and squirmed as the Morbuzahk dragged them away from the Vahki. The enforcers had noticed the second group of vines, but were too busy fighting the group by the ruins of Brander’s forge to be any help. Brander look around, straining his muscles as he fought to free himself…

The vine went limp, and suddenly he was running again. Another Nuurahk had sliced down on the vine, severing it from its other limbs. More Vahki had done the same for the other Ta-Matoran, and were now peppering either party of vines relentlessly with bouts of energy. Brander, Keahi, Kapura and the rest watched the battle with a mix of fear and awe.

It took some time, but soon the vines were either severed or retreating. The area grew still with the threat defeated. Brander and the others breathed a sigh of relief for a moment, grateful for the breath in their lungs. That moment was quickly gone however, as the Vahki all swarmed upon the Ta-Matoran, taking scans and chirping amongst themselves.

Brander looked down as the light of the Nuurahk scanned his body. His arm was damaged, he saw. The Morbuzahk had squeezed him so tightly that it had collapsed the armor. More than that, the muscle was exposed and swollen, and there was something on there that he could not identify. Not dirt, but some green-blue spore seemed to be spotting all over the exposed muscle. Worry began to flood him as he began to look for other damages in his armor. First his forge gone, now his arm busted! How could Mata Nui send him through such punishment?

Apparently he was the only one whom had received such damage. The Nuurahk led the others back their homes in Ta-Metru, while one picked him up and began to fly him elsewhere.  
***

The scope of the Ga-Matoran’s Akaku looked over the muscle in his arm. Brander waited impatiently as she carved various notes on the tablet she carried, sharing none of them with the Ta-Matoran. The dented armor and injured forearm was something Brander could easily repair himself; the spores on his arm however were something that needed to be answered, and the sooner the better.

“What are they?” he finally said.

“The Morbuzahk has touched you, hasn’t it,” said the doctor. Brander nodded.

“I have seen several cases of this,” said the doctor. “These vines that are creeping through the city… every Matoran they have touched have come to me with these spores. We are still studying what it is and what the effects are, but the vines have left these spores on every Matoran they have come in contact with.”

“What do the spores do?” asked Brander, nervousness running through his system.

“Nothing fatal,” said the doctor, giving a smile. “Rest assured that this will not kill you. However, it will plague you a bit. Some have reported a burning. Some have reported the need to scratch our muscular tissues… I believe the term for it is ‘itching’.”

“Neither of those sound good,” Brander said. “I need to get rid of this, sister. Doctor. Please.”

“Cold seems to be an effective way to combat this,” said the Ga-Matoran. “What I want you to do is go to a private bath here in Ga-Metru. The Vahki Bordahk have set up a station in the northeast sector for just this purpose. Show them the insignia I will give you and they will see to it that you have a cleansing bath. Other than that, try not to itch and take it easy on the arm. If you work the arm too much it will inflame these spores.”

Brander looked at her. Not use his arms, his hands? He needed to get a forge back up and running. He needed to get back to his duty. How could he not do his job?  
***  
Brander fumbled as he strapped on his tool belt with a struggle. Even though he could still use the isolator cast equipment— which he and many of the Ta-Matoran were calling an “ice” cast— it was about as maneuverable as a Po-Matoran carving field.

Brander was so occupied with the securing of his tool belt that he did not notice the Vahki standing outside of his door until he bumped right into it. “Oh! G-Good morning, Vahki Nuurahk!” he cried. “I swore I was running on time, I am heading to work, it’s just this belt won’t go on—“

“Matoran unit designation ‘Brander’,” said the Vahki. This enforcer, a delegation model, had specifically been given speech protocols. Two backup Vahki stood behind it. Brander swallowed as he acknowledged his designation. “Your recent travel logs have shown your visits to Ga-Matoran doctors. There you have been diagnosed with recent Morbuzahk infection.”

The Vahki said nothing more, simply handing him a tablet.

**_Citizen Brander,_ **

**_You have been recently diagnosed with a new infection. This infection’s origins, the Morbuzahk, are a largely unstudied case. The recent spread of spore infections from Morbuzahk plant life have cause alarm in your district._ **

**_Due to the spread of this Morbuzahk spore infection, we are requiring all documented infected cases to quarantine for a minimum of two weeks. This is to isolate the infection and prevent further spread of sickness within your district. We apologize for the inconvenience, but it is for the safety of the Metru._ **

**_Thank you for your compliance_ **   
**_Yours in Duty,_ **   
**_Turaga Dume and health board of Metru Nui._ **

Quarantine.

The word jumped from the letter out at the Ta-Matoran. His plans for the day, his work…

“I am in discussions about acquiring a new forge!” he protested to the Vahki. “I can’t miss an appointment I have today! I am not feeling sick, I am fine! I promise!”

The Vahki he addressed shook its head, while the backups glowered menacingly. One of the backup’s Staff of Command crackled to life.

“You have made your point,” Brander agreed. “I can stay home for a few days.”  
***  
The day went. Brander watched it from the behind the window looking out from his home. He had sent a messenger to alert any future appointments of his condition, and now he was sitting in his home ridden with anxiety. The city of Ta-Metru, and the larger Metru Nui, was a rapid pace environment. If you missed a day of work, you missed a lot of what was going on. Because he could not make the appointment to secure a new forge, the land could be instead developed into a factory outpost, a warehouse… a number of things. He would have to accept his losses, but it would take some time to process.

Brander looked around at his home. He _could_ do some work here— draft designs for tools and send messages— but that was about it. Most of what he needed was at his forge…that he did not have anymore.

He frowned as he looked around his hut. This was going to be a long two weeks.  
***

Thrill coursed through Brander’s mind as he walked the streets of Ta-Metru for the first time in a fortnight. He walked through the sights of the factories, the smell of smoke and metal, feeling the heat of the district around him… he must have looked like a tourist, but he did not care. He was just glad to be outside of the four walls of his home. He had spent days in there, awaiting the day he could get back to furthering his work. He was ready to get out there and back into the business of the Metru.

And yet… Ta-Metru did not seem that busy. There were carts and airships on their way to places, yes, and the sound of clanging metal came from some of nearby forges… but silence hung heavy in the long moments between those sounds. It seemed as if the district were emptier. This was how he imagined another district might feel— maybe Po-Metru or one of the industrial sections of Ga-Metru— but not the heart of the Ta-Metru forge district.

“Long time no see, hammer head,” came a voice. Brander whirled to see Keahi strolling down the street. Brander smiled, offering his fist to clank with Keahi. The Ta-Matoran grimaced, simply nodding.

“No offense, but I don’t think that is a good idea,” Keahi told him. Brander frowned, confused. “You have clearly missed a lot during your quarantine.”

“I am headed to a follow up appointment at a Ga-Metru doctor,” said Brander. “Fill me in on the way to the chute station?”

Brander reeled as he thought about what Keahi had told him. The Morbuzahk was gone, but this virus it had spread was turning into something far worse. From the sound of it more Matoran were going into quarantine by the day. Brander had sent out messages in his isolation, but there were many Matoran whose houses were dark and had not been heard from. To add to that, Toa Lhikan had gone missing, there were rumors of Dark Hunters being spotted in the city…

“If you want some good news though,” Keahi said, trying to make light of the scenario. “Vakama hasn’t been heard or seen lately— last anyone heard of him he was on urgent business weeks ago to Ga-Metru. His forge has been vacant. I am sure that the Vahki wouldn’t mind if you started working from there.”

Brander’s eyebrows raised. He liked the sound of that. Vakama had a state-of-the-art mask making forge. While Brander was not as learned in all of the tools the premier mask maker might have, he was sure he could make his way around.  
***

“It hasn’t spread,” said Brander as doctor inspected his arm. “The itching stopped.”

The doctor nodded. “But it hasn’t gone away.”

“It hasn’t spread either though,” Brander reminded the Ga-Matoran. She said nothing for a moment, then peeked again at the flesh under his armor.

“I am approving you for work release,” the doctor said. “You can go back to forging, but I would like you to apply ice to it every morning before work, and every evening after you arrive home.”

Brander thanked the doctor for her time, already thinking of Vakama’s forge calling his name.  
***

_A few weeks later_

The mask of Turaga Dume appeared on displays all over the city. Matoran paused in their work, Brander included, to pay attention to what their leader had to say.

“Matoran of Metru Nui. You are required to gather at the Coliseum,” Dume’s voice boomed through every telescreen. His voice echoed throughout every Metru. He smiled for a moment before the broadcast ended and the screen went blank.

Brander stood with his hammer in hand in what once was Vakama’s forge, having paused to listen to the city-wide message. The Turaga’s words echoed in his mind. This was an executive order, a message to all of the Matoran in Metru Nui. But was it safe to gather together, the Ta-Matoran wondered, even with this virus spreading so easily amongst them?

The knock of the Vahki on the door answered that question. Setting his hammer down, Brander turned low the flame on the forge and went to meet the Turaga’s summons.

Masses of Ta-Matoran filled the streets as they seemingly obediently made their way towards the Coliseum. Brander followed the crowd filing towards the city’s center, keeping his doubts of the safety of this to himself.

Vahki stood posted along the walkways near the entrance of the Coliseum, their audio receptors eavesdropping on the Matoran whom made their way through. Some chatted innocently to each other, catching up with their seldom seen friends, while others murmured about their concerns.

“Something’s going on,” one Matoran insisted. Others nodded in agreement. Why else would the Turaga ask them to gather so hastily? they supposed.

“What could it be though?” asked another worker. Had the Dark Hunters been caught? Or was it something else happening in the city that had caused the summons?

One of the robotic guardians chirped, its staff crackling menacingly with energy. Any further speculation would have to wait, the Matoran knew, until they were seated in the stands and safe from the Vahki.

Although there were still large groups of Matoran filing in, Brander could not help but think that the stadium seating of the Coliseum felt empty. Many Matoran were reported to have been taken by the Morbuzahk, its vines having grabbed citizens in the streets and dragged them off to the unknown places.

Brander had thought that the rumors had been exaggerated… but looking at the gaps in the upper levels of the stadium seating, he was beginning to wonder if word spread were actually true.

Brander’s attention was diverted to the floor of the arena, where swarms of vehicles crawled into view. Vahki were seen in the pilot seats, with a few Matoran accomplices guiding them on the arena floor. These vehicles had been seen throughout the city in recent weeks, but no details had come out about what they really were. The Ta-Matoran supposed that this was the big reveal.

“Faithful citizens,” rang the voice of Dume from atop his position on the Coliseum tower. He had clearly not brought the Matoran together for an akinili match. “Our city has been plagued with misfortune for a number of months now. We have experienced the disappearance of our beloved Toa Lhikan and the rest of the Toa Mangai. We have been plagued by the the Morbuzahk and its disease spread amongst you, our citizens. We have been harassed by the six imposters calling themselves Toa, but battling our Vahki in disastrous battles that have damaged our streets.”

The events have caused tensions in each of your neighborhood. They have caused battle and destruction in your streets. They have brought fear into your recent history.”

Agreement in the form of murmurs waved through the crowd of the gathered Metruans.

“However, we gather to rejoice!” exclaimed the Turaga of Fire from his position on the Coliseum tower. “For today will be a momentous climax to your history.”

The numerous vehicles had filled the hexagonal tiled floor of the Coliseum. Vahki pilots and Matoran assistants were now bringing out silver pods from the vehicles, placing them on the ground. Many of the crowd patrons recognized them— just like the vehicles, these odd spheres had been sighted around the city without any explanation as to what they were or what they did.

“The Vahki enforcers have worked strong and hard to protect you,” Dume continued. “The scientists of our esteemed staff, your neighbors and friends, have been working tirelessly in labs and foundries helping combat this virus the Morbuzahk has brought upon our city. Today I gather you all to announce that a cure has been found!”

Applause rippled through the stadium, Brander himself clapping in celebration. Around him, others were on their feet, shouting with joy. Had it really happened? He wanted to hear more of what the Turaga had to say.

Once the hollering and celebrating calmed down, Dume resumed his speech, going into details about the cure. The entire population of Metru Nui would receive it today, and in two week’s time, this virus plaguing the city would be just a memory.

The telescreens cut away from Turaga Dume, refocusing on a group of Matoran at the floor of the Coliseum. One of the spheres was in the frame with them, a door opened on it. Several diagrams cut in to the presentation as the Matoran explained how the spheres work and what they would do. A Vahki would open one and the door would slide down. The citizens would climb into the pods and close the door, they explained, and the Matoran would go into a brief stasis for a few days. The mechanics in the pod would emit a wavelength ray that would course through the Matoran occupants, which would nullify the virus if it were within their system. After that, the Matoran would be in stasis for a few days while their body absorbed the medicine that was being called the cure.

As the presentation concluded, Dume thanked the Matoran orators, as well as some of the scientists whom had developed the cure. While he did so, the thunderous cheer that had gone through the crowd earlier subsided into murmurs as some of the skeptics—mostly claustrophobic Le-Matoran— questioning this. If they were all in stasis, Metru Nui would grind to a halt for a time. Who would work the city in their absence? What would happen to the Great Spirit Mata Nui if they were all under and away from their stations?

“Test subjects have undergone this procedure, and they will be waking up within the day to resume their work,” Dume reassured those questioning. “With the assistance of the Vahki the city will be maintained while you are undergoing treatment.”

Most of the skeptics had been swayed at this point, and it was time to get the Matoran into the stadium center. Vahki appeared amongst the crowd of Matoran, beginning to usher the citizens in an orderly towards the pods.

“It is important that you cooperate with the Vahki enforcers,” Dume’s voice rolled over the crowd.

Brander found himself going along with the crowd, watching the endless stream of fellow Matoran ahead as they made their way into the arena. Many people within earshot could be heard chattering away at how excited they were for this, at how much of a relief it was. Brander said nothing aloud, merely thinking to himself as he went along in line.

A cure had been found! He should be ecstatic.

Then why didn’t he? Having already experienced the virus, he thought his body might be partially immune now. What would this cure do if he had already been through the virus? Would it work and make him stronger because of what he had been through, or would it take away all that his body had experienced? He comprehended everything that the Matoran presenters had explained but at the end of the day he was a crafter. He did not understand this.

It still didn’t stop him from worrying.

After an eternity of thinking about it, Brander found himself at the front of the crowd. The silver spheres were ahead. Beyond them, the stadium seats almost glowed white in their emptiness, and the tower of the Coliseum reached higher above than he could fathom. Brander observed the Matoran assistants helping their brothers and sisters into the pods and then closing the door. One watching could see the pod shut, and through the little window on the door the occupant’s eyes go dark as they went into stasis-like sleep. Two Vahki came to load the pod onto one of their vehicles, while another two came to set a pod down for the next Matoran.

He wondered what would happen if he could refuse going in the pods, but Vahki monitoring on the far edge of the crowd made him feel as if he was better off not asking.

Maybe after a few days his worries would wash away, and he could return to crafting without the concerns of the virus taking up his mind. After all, it was only a few days of this stasis.

He climbed into the pod, taking the assistance of the Matoran helper. It was small in the pod. The sphere was barely big enough for him to stand in without his mask touching the ceiling. Brander had enough room to wiggle around, but he could not spread himself like he could on his sleeping pallet at home.

The Matoran assistant nodded to him as they grabbed the latch and hoisted the door up. Brander breathed in deeply and took one look at the crowd of Matoran still waiting in line before he closed his eyes. Sleep overcame him.

As he relaxed, he began to drift off into what would be not a few days stasis but an endless slumber. His worries, and the rest of his memories, were from then on no more.

**Author's Note:**

> It never really made sense why the Matoran so willingly got into the capsule balls in Legends of Metru Nui. Plus there was never really any fallout with the Morbuzahk and the Matoran population-- it was just a bad guy for the Toa Metru to defeat. Plants in the real world such as poison ivy infect humans who touch it, so why can't the Morbuzahk give something to the Matoran? I took two problems and figured what I thought was a solution. 
> 
> I could have written more about the life of a quarantined Matoran, but honestly I didn't want or care to. I was more concerned with overlapping the main beat, so sorry if this seems a little bare bones. 
> 
> Last note: Not trying to make any vaccination agendas or anti vax or any political statement of any kind. I just wanted to write a piece that creatively blended real life with fantasy.


End file.
